Gallantry
by TheLadyAranel
Summary: Gallantry…he could find no gallantry in the slaughter of women and children, but he followed his orders…and was given his title. A Male BE/ Female NE pairing. Old story, posted again.


**A/N: Gosh this is an old Fanfiction. I wrote it back in the day. I must have been 14 when I first posted it on this site. I took it off and now for some reason decided to post it again. It is pretty much discontinued...unless you all want more. Then I'll go back and edit it to post more. With that being said. Enjoy. haha.**

**I own nothing.**

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The cool waters splashed against his face numbing his senses, particularly touch, and refreshed him most thoroughly. It had been ten long years, and finally the sojourn had ended. Peering into the crystal liquid he examined himself. Years of discipline had hardened his exterior, made him quick in battle, and brought weariness upon him he had never felt before.

Blazing emerald eyes stared back at him from the placid waters. The man he saw was grim yet handsome, but in desperate need of a proper bath and shave. Scarlet hair fell from the loose ends of the leather strap that bound his hair to the top of his head, while the rest stood out on end, protruding every which way meeting evenly his mid-back. It wasn't whom he remembered from previous years. The boy with scarcely enough strength to lift a sword or command a spell now held within his hands and mined a weapon more powerful than he could fathom. He had grown and matured…

But above all corporeal and poignant changes in his young life, a lesson stood above the rest. It was instilled in him a policy in which he would live his life by, the code of a Blood Knight.

His title was given to him only months ago when he first began his voyage home. He was stationed in the Humid Forests of the Nightelves, finished in the fighting for control over the NightSong and beginning his trek home to the milieu of Eversong.

_Gallantry_, his superior officer had told him. Always remember gallantry. Follow the light, and remain steadfast to the Horde.

It was rather time consuming to reach his goal. It took the whole ten years to be exact, but he had done it willfully. Instilled in him were the laws and codes of a Blood Knight, and he did well in representing his faction. He could recite the code from memory, and did so often, and remembered the endless nights of rote.

"The Life of a Blood Knight will be followed by the laws of the code: To protect the weak and defenseless,

_To give succor to widows and orphans,_

_To refrain from the wanton giving of offence,_

_To live by honor and for glory,_

_To despise pecuniary reward,_

_To fight for the welfare of all members of your given faction,_

_To obey those placed in authority,_

_To guard the honor of fellow knights,_

_To eschew unfairness, and deceit,_

_To remember the Sunwell,_

_At all times to speak the truth,_

_To persevere to the end in any enterprise begun,_

_To respect the honor of the Horde,_

_Never to refuse a challenge from an equal,_

_Never to turn the back upon a foe."_

Gallantry…he could find no gallantry in the slaughter of women and children, but he followed his orders…and was given his title.

He did however search for the answers to the onslaught of his foes, and the answer was simple. They were the opposite faction. He had killed at least dozens of each opposing race, and did so without remorse. So why were the children of these races so different? They would grow and kill just as their kindred had, and he would kill them too. It was a bloody war with no solution, and he was happy. Perhaps that is what disturbed him most. He was happy to kill. The thrill of cutting down the enemy filled him with the utmost joy of contempt. The contempt is what drove him and his sword to the heart of the enemy, and he would do it all again.

But now maybe he could rest. He was almost home, and the gates of Silvermoon called to him.

Gathering all of his possessions—which were few saves his backpack, bags, and sword—slowly he rose, and trudged the hillside. It had been ages it seemed since he had last set his eyes upon the woods of the Eversong, and with it came a longing to be home as a child once more. A crooked grin slipped past the dour expression he carried with him at all times, and a particular memory crossed his psyche…

_The sky was brightly lit with the waning sun of summer, diminishing into the zenith of autumn, as two infantile Blood Elves played. They played as brother and sister often will in a game they would occasionally partake in._

_The younger of the two was a small girl, no older than five summers, her hair the colour of the sun's rays, and skin russet, soft, and innocent. The older boy who was two years her senior had the face of an angel, but held the rambunctious ego of a devilish firebrand. It was matched well by his red hair which was longer than hers well past his shoulders, and freckles sparked violently against his glowing jasper eyes._

_"Sir Erurainon!" The high pitched voice of the small girl echoed past the swaying trees, and over the hillside came the boy smiling crookedly, a wooden toy sword in hand._

_"Do not fear princess, I will save you!" The words fell off the tongue in a sense of false pride as he cut down the invisible dragons._

_Erurainon huffed as his sister stamped her foot with impatient ness._

"_Princess WHAT, SIR Erurainon?" furrowing her elegant eyebrows into a stern annoyed face, she waited._

_The small boy rolled his eyes and with monotony gave her his reply, "Do no fear princess Saerwen, I will save you…"_

_"That's better, Erury, NOW HURRY!"_

_Grinning again the small elven boy sprinted to his sister, continuing to slash the air at the make believe creatures imprisoning her._

_"I'm here now princess," Erurainon smiled triumphantly and then his ears prickled forward, "Do you hear that princess Saerwen? It must be the foul dragon who locked you deep within this place. Stay close, we will fight him together!"_

_Slowly they tiptoed to the edge of the shrubbery in which circled the small building that was the tower in which the dragon held Saerwen._

_Saerwen stopped, and held onto her brother's hand._

"_Do you hear that Sir Erurainon?"_

"_Hear what? I don't hear anything—wha—" Both children jumped, and screamed as an older Blood Elf pounced out from the shrubs and scooped them up in his arms._

_"What do you think your doing? The princess is mine! I'll keep her locked in my tower for all eternity!"_

_Saerwen laughed uncontrollably as the elf tickled her._

"_Da—da—dad! Stop! Th—tha—that tickles!"_

_Laughing deeply their father continued relentlessly, "I do not know this father you speak of! I'm a mighty dragon! And who will save you? Your Blood Knight?"_

_He then turned to Erurainon and tickled him._

"_Dad stop it! I'm too old for this."_

_For a moment his father paused and shook his head at his son._

"_You are never too old to enjoy life Erurainon. Do not wish away your time here."_

_Erurainon stared back at his father, and then to his sister, who was sitting in the warm grass picking and tearing at it, watching both of them intently. Saerwen took after their father, her hair only slightly lighter than his. He could not deny her if he wished it._

_"I—"_

_Just then their mother called to them all, it was time to go home. Erurainon nodded at his father who picked up Saerwen and motioned for him to follow…_

His eyes began to burn with the pain of tears but reluctantly pushed them deep inside. He would not revisit old memories for the sake of faintheartedness. What happened to them a decade ago would nevermore haunt his fortitude of heart.

Weighing the pack on his shoulders he finally realized the heaviness of the burden and tightened the straps for a better grip. It wouldn't be long now, soon he would be home, and in his view was Fairbreeze Village. He would stop there and sell the pelts he had been carrying with him since he was last in the Barrens. They should fetch him a little pretty coin.

Marching past the rangers that protected still the village from the remaining scourge he nodded in greeting and in return they saluted. He had all but forgotten he was now their superior and with it came more responsibility…some he didn't necessarily want.

Glancing back at the rangers he eyes wandered to a pretty little Blood Elf with soft auburn curls. Erurainon left his muscles tighten and he blushed feverishly. It had been a very long time since he had seen a female of his own kind. He had matured so much that he now felt a burning desire to see her nude and this caused him to blush even more mortified for thinking such thoughts. But in good spirits she giggled at him and smiled warmly. Yet it did little but arouse him more.

He stepped into the inn shaking from his thoughts the tight leather hugging her body, and made an exchange with the innkeeper. Silver coins, sixty to be precise, for three well maintained pelts from plainstriders.

After the barter had been completed he turned to leave but was stopped by the innkeeper.

"You wouldn't happen to be Maidhfindin and Thenidiel's son would you?" The woman's voice was stern and commanding, but he found no threat in it.

"I am." He spoke softly.

"Erurainon that was their son's name, wasn't it?

He again felt the pulling of tears against his burning green eyes, "It is."

"It's a pity. What happened to them I mean…and poor little Saerwen. That was her name wasn't it?"

Taking a deep breath he steadied his thoughts, pushing back the haunting.

"It is—was." For a moment he thought of her, small, and precious, and then she changed. Sarewen was grown, beautiful, and ungodly powerful. She was person that would never be.

"Forgive me good innkeeper, but I must be off. May the eternal sun guide you."

He hurried himself along, and waited not for a reply. He simply placed a blessing upon the inn and left. He had endured too much for his liking on this day, and he only wanted to rest his head after a proper bath, shave, and hearty supper, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.


End file.
